A Disastrous Attempt at Seduction
by Alenor Peredhel
Summary: Hey everyone! This is in response to all those that were wondering how Faith met her husband. And as Rebell an author on this site stated: It was a bumpy ride, I'll tell you that... How bumpy? Well I guess you'll have to read to find out! Enjoy!


**Disclaimer:** I don't own L.O.T.R, though I think it's pretty safe for me to say I own all the characters of this story.

**Alenor's Note:** As was noted in the summary of the story, you'll probably need to go back and read _Slave_ if you wish to understand this. However, if you wish not to, that is your own decision. Now, this was written for all you out there who were wondering how Faith met her husband. Hope you enjoy their first encounter.

**Note For Rebell:** (First off, again, don't hit me with a blunt object but: _THANKS A MILLION, _for so graciously helping me when Fanfiction wasn't uploading this chapter. I'm indebted. Thanks again. So I'm giving ya partial credit for this chapter, cause really you did a lot for me. Thanks again, again!

A Disastrous Attempt at Seduction

The market was teeming with life, a busy day as the vendors restocked their wares, and bargains were set for last week's items. Through the nightmare throng, Faith wove, cursing at everyone who so dared as much as look her way.

Runaway pieces of hair escaped themselves from the restricting braid she had placed it in, and hung damply in her eyes. Sweat rolled down her face, and clung to her underarms. It was a very discomforting feeling, and no amount of pulling her dress away from her frame, made it any better. At least she wasn't the only one who smelled like they had just crawled themselves out from a cesspool.

Curse Etane! What voices had prompted him to make her go to the market for him? She wasn't a Cook's apprentice, Eru forbid if she ever thought of the idea. She hadn't even known what basket to take with her, which, she supposed, was how she had ended up with an elongated flower basket The items she bought, per request, were in constant danger of spilling out. Secretly, Faith almost wished they would. If they did, she could go back to Etane and say it wasn't her fault, and that he should have chosen someone else to go.

A curse on all brothers, adopted or otherwise!

"Be off!" Faith snarled as a child trod on her foot. Judging from the kid's grimy look, he was a thief, and had no doubt just relieved her of a few coins. No matter, Etane had plenty to go around. It wasn't as if he were poor.

"Excuse me Miss, but you're looking lost. Why don't you come over here, I think I might have something that interests you."

Pulling away from the imploring vendor-keeper, Faith irritably continued, juggling with her load. She doubted anything could please her at the moment, unless it consisted of a quiet room and something to lose her horrors into. Perhaps a drink.

Spying such a place from the corner of her eye, Faith experimentally jiggled her lighter coin purse. Perhaps enough for a drink, maybe two. Not enough to get drunk though and certainly not enough for Etane to have to come looking for her. Unfair.

Turning away from the temptation, Faith spotted the hawker she had originally been looking for. Well finally. Impolitely stepping on people's feet and shoving them out of the way, she made her way toward it.

"Excuse me! Miss! Miss!"

Unsure whether the man was calling out her name or not, Faith chose to ignore it. Besides who would be calling her name? She knew no one in the Market Place. She made a point of avoiding the place, that is, unless Etane purposefully sent her there. Dratted man!

"Can I help you?" The vendor asked an unpleasant curl to his lip as he watched Faith shove her way to the front of the line.

Ignoring the squawks of protest, Faith leaned over and jabbed a finger at the man. "I need..." she paused, and dug the soiled list from the flower basket. She shoved it on the table and pointed it at him. She had no idea what that food item was, probably some Haradrim delicacy that she didn't want to know.

"I can't read," the vendor looked up, raising an eyebrow. "So if you don't mind, the back of the line is calling."

Growling Faith thrust her finger at the note. "This! This!" she shouted. "Read it you idiot!"

"Perhaps I can help."

Faith looked up in time to see a man enter her line of view. "Excuse me!" she exclaimed as he lightly pushed her to the side. "I think I had the situation under control."

"Oh really now?" the man raised a bushy eyebrow and turned away. "I think the Lady was looking for..." he repeated some unintelligible name.

Stamping her foot, Faith struggled to cross her arms. It was difficult as loaded down as they were. "I said I had the situation under control."

Barely sparing her a glance the man accepted the proffered item from the shopkeeper and politely paid. "Come along now," he urged, taking Faith's arms and steering her away from the growing frustration of the line.

"Thank you," Faith said curtly, grabbing the item from his hand, and dropping it on the top of the other foods. "Now good-bye." She turned away sharply, intent on returning to the manor.

"No wait just a moment Lady!" the man exclaimed, grabbing her arm again.

"Take your hands off me!" Faith threatened, narrowing her eyes. "This instant."

"Alright! Alright! At least give me your name Lady."

Shifting to accommodate her balance as someone bumped her, she continued to glare. "Well I'm surprised you don't already know it."

"What do you mean?" he asked, his own eyebrows narrowing.

"Well you're the same man who's been stalking me since last month!" Faith snapped, jabbing him sharply in the chest. "So go away."

The look of shock would have been comical, if the situation had been different. "Lady, but I don't recall seeing you around here."

"No?" Faith questioned, spittle flying from her lips, heat flaring in her eyes. "You've been stalking me. I've been watching you. I've seen you."

Uncomfortably the man ran his hand through his hair. "Listen, I'm sorry, I don't know you, you must be confusing me with someone else you know."

"Liar."

Affronted, the man held up his hands and backed up a few paces. "Please, I'm sorry."

"Sorry!" Faith shouted, advancing. "I daresay you better be sorry. I don't want to ever see your face again."

Turning sharply on heel she strode away, pretending not to notice that some of food items had been left behind on the dusty ground. The nerve of that man! The nerve! To think that he could try to win her over by sweet looks and sweet-talking, and pretending that he hadn't been following her around for the past while. Fool! Idiot! She couldn't believe how stupid some people were.

"Look who's back! Three cheers for Valetien."

"Shut up," Valetien snapped in the direction of the three men sitting at a round table in a smoky corner. Wearily he dropped his weight onto the stool, propping his elbows on the scarred counter before him.

"I warned you, I warned you she wasn't going to fall for it. Move your elbows now; you're leaning in a pool of ale."

Grunting, Valetien moved his arms, eyeing the woman who was cleaning the counter. Her generous curves were spilling from her taut dress, along with the tightly wound curls that escaped from the tedious up-do. Her face was pleasant however, baby-faced, with eyes that always seemed to smile.

"Now, now I didn't say give up," she continued, as if not noticing the glare directed toward her. "Try to be more subtle next time, don't go blundering out there."

Shoving at an empty mug beside him, Valetien scowled. "Forget being subtle, this means war."

"War?" the woman exclaimed jumping back. She shook her dirty rag in his face, as he gained his feet. "Now that's not the way you be treating a woman you hear? You're going to go about this like a proper Haradrim man."

"I said, this means war, and I _mean it_," Valetien snarled, shoving himself back out into the heat of the Market Place.

Inside the bar maid clucked her tongue and resumed her work. "Men are never going to learn are they? Blundering off after women. He's never going to win that one over, mark my words. Eru strike me down if he does. War! Pfft! _War!_ Why must men never think with their heads?"


End file.
